


A Nasty Narrative of Names

by TeamGwenee



Series: Spelling with Jaime and Brienne [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Aliens, Angst, Crack, Drabbles, F/M, Ghosts, Horror, Monsters, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-10 00:17:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15279390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamGwenee/pseuds/TeamGwenee
Summary: In honour of Friday the Thirteenth, a series of horror drabbles.





	A Nasty Narrative of Names

**J**.udgement

A chorus of dead Starks rose before him, joined by a butchered Elia Martell and her slaughtered children. Aerys lay quivering at his feet. His father was stinking of shit and blood, Cersei with wildfire burning in her eyes. Joffrey's face was purple and Lannister red blood gushed down Myrcella's white chin. Tommen stared blankly before him.

“I see Renly,” Brienne whispered, “And Lady Stark,”

Body upon body piled onto the floor, their naked bloodied corpses pressed into cold flesh.

Brienne grasped Jaime's hand in her own and tugged him away.

“Come on,” she ordered, and turned his back on the dead.

 

 **A**.ttic

Jaime always loved Brienne's blue eyes. He thanked the Old Gods, the New and Brienne's own stubborness that meant they remained warm sapphire than empty ice. (And Qyburn of course, kept alive for this purpose.) She was still there, beneath her icy skin that shone like mercury in the moonlight. She knew Jaime. She would allow him to enter her tower chamber and place food at her feet. Food she would eat. He could talk to her and would listen. She was still Brienne.

But no one else knew Brienne like he did, they wouldn't look at her and see his friend staring back. He told her so again and again, but that didn't keep her blue eyes from turning mournful and betrayed every time he locked the door.

 

 **I**.cinerated

Cersei gathered the ash in her hands and threw it up in celebration. It whirled and drifted to the floor like confetti. It settled upon her charred skin as soft as kisses.

Jaime used to kiss her softly. She still remembered Jaime's kisses, even after all these years. Kisses that were just for her, even though liars would tell her he had found another, the Cow of Tarth.

Never mind. They were all dead now. Buried in tombs while Cersei remained, year after year, decade after decade. Walking through the remains of the once great Red Keep.

The Targaryen Whore had called herself Mother of Dragons, but Cersei was Queen of the Ashes.

 

 **M**.ask

“I fucking hate clowns,” Jaime swore as he and Brienne made their way through the twisting corridors of the abandoned carnival's hall of mirrors, “It's like you and puppets. Stop rolling your eyes at me, how would you like it if you were sent on a call to investigate a bunch of puppet murders,”

Brienne didn't have time to answer before the clown revealed itself. And as spine tingling Jaime found clowns, nothing touched upon his fear when the clown slowly peeled away its face.

Even Brienne followed Jaime as he turned and sprinted down the hall of mirrors. Because as creepy as clowns were, nothing touched upon little ghost girls with demonic smiles.

_Nothing._

 

 **E**.xecution

Brienne and Tyrion were the only people to visit Jaime the night before Jon Snow cut Jaime's head off.

They were also the only ones who weren't surprised when Jaime stood up and put his head back on again.

Deals with the devil....not _always_ bad.

 

 

 

 **A.** liens

“What do you want with us!” Brienne demanded, futilely fighting to break away from the stainless steel tables.

“Let me guess, probe us? Vivisection?” Jaime snarled.

“Eat us?”

“Because if so, I'm prime Lannister meat and too good for a common stew. It's flambé or nothing,”

“We. Wish. To. Observe,” the grey alien croaked.

“Observe what?” Brienne snapped.

“How. Humans. Mate,”

Brienne instatly stilled against her bonds and looked at Jaime.

“Well then,” Jamie said chirpily, “Never let it be said that Lannisters make bad guests. Do you have any condoms?”

 

 **N**.anny

“I still see her,” Brienne admitted, crouching in her and Jaime's favourite hiding place, the bushes outside Jaime's house. “Daddy tells me in it's my head but I still see her. She sits in the corner of my room and watches me in bed,”

“But she fell off the cliff and into the sea, she's dead,” Jaime insisted.

“Because of me,”Brienne sighed, “Because she was chasing me,”

“She fell because she was trying to hit you with her paddle,” Jaime snapped, “It was her own fault. Everyone said so,”

Brienne cuddled into Jaime, causing him to start in surprise even as he hugged her back. Brienne tried to take solace in Jaime's words. And her father's and the psychologist. But try as she might, she couldn't bring herself to believe them. To believe she was not to blame.

Because Septa Roelle certainly didn't.

 

 **D**.eal

Tywin Lannister had signed the document without a second thought. The price was steep, but so worth it. That which he cherished most, in return for glory and gold? Obviously his son, Jaime. A shame but Cersei would give him Lannister children to continue the legacy, so the Lannister name would live on even once Jaime was gone.

Easy.

Well, not quite so easy. Tywin had to be present when the transaction was complete, ten years since the day he signed the document. He invited Jaime to dinner, along with that Brienne creature, and watched unfazed as the ground opened and his old business parnter emerged.

Jaime's ugly girlfriend looked at him with digsust and spat on his designer shoes.

“Your son!” she screamed, “Your own son,”

Jaime shook his head numbly. “Father?” he whispered.

“This does not please me,” Tywin said simply, “But sacrifices must be made for the family. And a Lannister always pays his debts,”

“I'm glad to hear it,” the cloven footed man smiled genially, “And if there are no more prostests,”

Tywin barely had time to register his shock as he was grabbed by the ankle by a black clawed handm and dragged into the flames below.

In hindsight, no one should have been surprised that what Tywin Lannister treasured the most, was himself.

 

 

 

 **B**.ride

Brienne helplessly dabbed at the stains dripping down her satin skirt. She looked up at Jaime and glared.

“I told you it was a bad idea for me not to carry a sword,” she snapped, “Only an idiot doesn't carry a sword to a wedding,”

“Well how was I to know the Evenfall sept was haunted by the vengeful of a bride jilted on her wedding day,” Jaime said defensively, “Why didn't you tell me?”

“You never asked,”

“There is so much I don't know about your family,” Jaime sighed, “Anything else you want to tell me,”

Brienne furrowed her forehead, “Not that I could think of. Although..perhaps avoid the West Tower during the full moon,”

 

 **R**.atings

The calls for cancellation went unheeded. Most of the public only rolled their eyes and shrugged. Just a bunch of whiny goody two-shoes special snowflakes. It was just a show, and the contestants deserved what they got. It was that, or the chair.

They were lucky really. That was what the CEO, Euron Greyjoy, told everyone. At least this way, they were given another chance. Tracking down fellow human filth alongside their partners for the betterment and entertainment of the public.

Brienne Tarth certainly did, for all she protested her innocence of any crimes. Killing Renly Baratheon, a man who trusted her. Still, she was a favourite to win. She and her partner. Jaime Lannister was probably even worse morality wise, but their back and forth entertained the viewers and that was all that mattered. Euron Greyjoy smiled as he read through the ratings report. Things had gotten especially spicy when Ramsay Bolton took down pretty little Sansa Stark. His own partner, as it happened.

(Didn't want to share the prize money.)

And now down to the final three, the country was on edge to see the bloody outcome. Brienne and Jaime took Ramsay down in a savage finale and yet the cameras kept rolling. Euron frowned as his screen showed a familiar staircase, only recognising it in time to realise he was truly fucked.

The knife in his throat was buried shallow enough for Jaime Lannister to bend down and hiss into his ear, “Don't worry, the ratings will be fantastic,” Jaime ripped the knife back from the wound, blood spraying everywhere, “And that's all that matters,”

 

 **I**.nvitation

Thick paper, gold lettering. Very pretty.

Brienne held it in her hand, running her thumb across the address as she drifted towards the front door. The house before her was so grand and beautiful, she couldn't help but fear she would be turned away at the door. And yet an overwhelming sense of certainty that this was where she belonged fell upon her as the liveried footman welcomed her through.

“At last,” green eyes sparkled as a handsome face smiled warmly at her, “You are here,”

He took her elbow and led her to the dance floor, the train of her ballgown floating behind her. (Where did her ballgown come from?)

He danced with her as gorgeously attired guests swirled around them. Brienne gazed at the ballroom, frowning slightly. “Where do I know this place? Why do I feel I have been here before,”

Jaime Lannister, her husband kissed her forehead, “Because you have. And we have been waiting for you so long,”

Brienne nestled into her husband's arms, “I am sorry for keeping you waiting, the crash...”

“It wasn't your fault,” Jaime assured her, “And now you are here, we can dance forever...”

 

 **E**.xperiment

Brienne could only watch as the monster Jaime inherited from his sister strapped her to the table. The ice in her veins took over and she kicked and struggled against her leather bonds. Jaime stroked her forehead soothingly, trying to clam her down, as though she could control the fight in her limbs.

Dragon glass, beaten into powder and mixed with milk of the poppy was forced into her mouth and down her throat. Warmth spread through her, gentle first and then burning, before the battle in her body exhausted her and sent her intp a slumber.

When she awoke Jaime smiled and Qyburn assured him the process would continue to work. All Brienne could do was pray.

Because God help her if it didn't.

 

 **N**.ursery

Brienne smiled uneasily at the four Stark children. Sansa, Arya, Bran and Rickon. All sat before her, hands crossed across their laps and polite smiles lingering on their faces. All of them, still and placid. Even baby Rickon and boisterous tomboy Arya.

She usually liked babysitting the Stark kids, but the last few months their behaviour had been steadily growing more and more disturbing, ever since they moved into their new house. Or old house. Ned had inherited the crumbling Winterfell form his father and dragged all his family to live in the dilpidated old castle.

Stuck in the middle of nowhere, the Stark children's behaviour had became undeniably uncanny. In the end, Catelyn Stark had to offer to double Brienne's usual fee to get her to watch over little wolf cubs.

“So,” Brienne clapped her hands, “Do you you guys want to watch a film, or to get some dinner?”

“Yes,” Sansa replied.

“We must feed,” Arya said.

“Feed,” Bran and Rickon confirmed, picking up a chant, “Feed, feed, _feed!_ ”

Cat couldn't even blame Brienne when she got the call, telling her that for once she would have to go back on her word. Even she was getting freaked her by her litte devi- _darlings_.

Especially since she saw them eating a raw stag in the garden.

 

 **N**.ext

“All Lannisters must die!” the severed wolf head declared, eyes glowing poisonous green, “Tywin Lannister. Cersei Lannister. Joffrey Lannister. All dead. And Jaime Lannister is next!”

Brienne blinked at the floating head, before pulling out her valyrian steel sword and skewering it like meat on a stick, to be roasted over an open flame.

“Fuck that,” she muttered, “Fuck that to seven hells,”

 

 **E**.xist

The White Walkers are real. They are chasing me and Jaime, I can feel the heart in my chest and snow on my cheeks. They are gaining closer and closer. They nearly have us.

And I wake up.

It is the flames that are real. They are growing and biting at my skin as I scream. Cersei Lannister watches and laughs. They are choking me. I breathe the smoke to put me to sleep.

And I wake up.

The sword in my gut is real. Blood spurts out in a fountain of red. I feel the earth rise up around me and swallow me whole.

And I wake up.

The Mountain is real. Gregor Clegane has me in his grip. I fought so hard. We all did. But they are dead and beneath his helmet the monster smiles at me. He lifts me off my feet and carries me by the throat. He is squeezing it, tighter and tighter. I can feel it burst.

And I wake up.

Jaime kisses me and pushes me back against the silk cushions. “You are safe, I am here,” he presses his lips against my forehead, “I love you,”

His eyes are tender, the love in his voice feels real.

I haven't woken up yet. I don't think I will.

 


End file.
